The Trinity Inheritance: 'Esther'
by SayahYagashi
Summary: The fate of an Empire changes, the wheels of fortune are set in motion and a legend is rewritten when Esther discovers her true destiny and is thrown into a world of danger and betrayal with only a poor silver-haired priest by her side.
1. Author's Notes

**Summary:** _The fate of an Empire changes, the wheels of fortune are set in motion and legend is rewritten, when Esther discovers her true destiny and is thrown into a world of danger and betrayal with only a simlpe priest by her side. _

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**Disclaimer:** I don't own Abel *sob* or anything associated with Trinity Blood, nor do I own the Inheritance Universe *shakes fist at the heavens* which is the sole property of Christopher Paolini. And they won't magically become mine in the future so this is the first, last and the only time I am going to say this, _I don't own anything!_ Except this plot maybe. And those new sandals I bought with my _own_ money this Saturday.

(This is a carry-over disclaimer. It would NOT be repeated in future chapters)

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**Warnings:** Hmm…not really any, unless you consider my ramblings a torture.

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**A/N: **

1. There are _no_ dwarfs in this story

2. In place of elves, we have our very own va … (*cough*)…Methuselah.

3. In place of Ra'zac, we have the AutoJagers under the Puppeteer, though they are called Jagaaras or Death Hunters.

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**I just came up with this idea of Esther, Abel and the crew of having adventures in Alagaesia like Eragon and the rest 'cause, let's face it people, the place rocks and Trinity Blood characters are way more fun.**

**Alright, enough of this! Please start reading the story. Reviewers are more than welcome, and so is **_**constructive**_** criticism. Feel free to give any ideas or advice you might have...**

**^_^**

**SayahYagashi**


	2. Prologue: Shade of Fear

_**Prologue:**_

**Shade of Fear**

**-**

_Wind__howled through the night, carrying a scent that would change the world._

_A tall **Shade** lifted his head and sniffed the air. An inhumane smile spread across his face._

The game had begun.

_His eyes gleamed in unholy glee as he surveyed the trail, for him, the faint moon light akin to sunshine streaming through the trees._

_He remained unnaturally quiet, a pale sword in his hand, whose perfect length was marred by a wire-thin scratch. Anger momentarily flashed in his eyes as he looked at the mark, but it was gone as quickly as it had come, leaving behind only a chilling calm and vengeful promises for the future._

_Behind him and spread all around him in the bushes, huge shadows sat still in the darkness, garbed in faded armor and carrying huge lances and spears. All dwarfed the Shade in size but none dared to cross him._

_A breath of air, a whiff of prey, a distant clatter of hoofs; the Shade's eyes narrowed as three white horses emerged into view._

_On the first and the last horses sat two battle-trained Methuselah, their build slim but strong, their coats gleaming like liquid silver, long dark hair rippling down their backs. Swords pressed against their sides, opposite a quiver of arrows fletched with swan feathers._

_Eyes darting constantly to their sides, they proceeded with graceful yet cautious movements._

_The gap cleared and the Shade got the first glimpse of his prey._

_A **Methuselah** boy, barely of age, rode between them, his fair locks framing an exquisitely beautiful face, crimson eyes shining with experienced wisdom and strength. Though smaller than his guards, he still portrayed an image of authority and power, his hand resting lightly on his rapier, while the other held a hefty pouch._

_The Shade smiled lazily and walked into the clearing without further ado._

_Immediately, the Methuselah guards jumped in front of the boy, their swords drawn in a flash, mouths uttering spells._

_The Shade flicked a finger._

_The guards gasped clutching their throats and dropped down from their steeds, froth forming at the corners of their mouths as the poison in the air reached their bloodstreams and reacted instantly._

_The boy meanwhile had loosened three arrows in quick succession, all crackling with green energy, aimed at the fiend's heart._

_Less than an inch from the Shade, the arrows imploded into nothingness, even as a surge of light enveloped the Shade. While the boy strove to maintain the inferno, the warriors burst from the surroundings and the light faded away, revealing the Shade, completely unharmed._

'_Resistance is useless.' Hissed the tallest of the soldiers, light blue hair billowing around his face as he swung his mighty spear and brought it crashing down on the surviving Methuselah, who nimbly side stepped it and leapt into the air, using the man's face as a diving board and bounded away into the forest, an anguished cry wrenching from his lips as he passed over his dead companions. Behind him, the man screamed in anger and pelted after him, closely followed by his subordinates._

_While, the warriors crashed through the trees, their strange armors flashing in the gloom, the Shade rose up into the air and settled on the tallest tree in the vicinity, his right toe gently resting on the topmost leaf. Dark greasy hair, pulled back into a ponytail, whipped around in the wind, as the Shade watched the chase with the interest of a hunter observing some particularly illusive game._

'_Istalri boetk!' He uttered and fire branched out from his fingers, racing through the trees, forming a broad ring of fire all around the ambush site. Now, he only had to wait._

_Ten…nine…_

_Standing on the tree, he looked at his fingernails, clearly bored. _

_Eight…seven…_

_Spotting a little dirt under one nail, he carefully cleaned it out with an extended claw._

_Six…five…_

_Sliding his claws against each other, he sharpened them, throwing away the blunt edge with a flick of his thumb._

_Four…three…_

_The offending part flew threw the air and embedded itself deep in the bark of a neighboring tree, quivering._

_Two…_

_The Shade crouched…_wondering vaguely what was taking the soldiers so much time.

_One…_

…_And soared into the sky, landing noiselessly in front of the sprinting boy, a quarter of a mile away from where he had been standing less than a second ago, causing the boy to stop and retrace his path._

_The warriors had almost caught with them. The boy stopped, uncertain; flames raged on his right, in front oh him, was a battalion of warriors and behind him a cursed monster. He turned left. The Shade lifted a hand; dark forms sprung up from the shadows under the trees and blocked his only escape. _

_A blank look came into the Methuselah boy's eyes and his stance relaxed, as if defeated._

_The Shade frowned, worried for the first time. _

_Raising the pouch high above his head, the boy turned with a look of disdain and finality on his face, his lips forming frantic words, even as the Shade bellowed at the warriors to kill him, as he himself threw a ball of red fire towards the boy._

_A flash of blinding blue light illuminated the clearing, drowning out even the bright flames and the boy fell on his knees, smitten by the red fire, but his hands were empty._

_The Shade screamed in horror and the soldiers stopped in their tracks, fear writ on their faces._

'_Durza?' whispered one, uncertain._

_The next second more than a dozen of them fell down dead as blood spurted out of their chests and heads and the Shade stumbled forward, his sword raised to the heavens._

_The boy lay unconscious on the ground, spent._

_Lifting him up harshly, the Shade shrieked in his face before breaking both his arms and hurling his prone form at one of the remaining men._

_They left the same way they had come, quenching the fires in their path but leaving the rest to burn._

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**For those not familiar with Trinity Blood terminology-**

Methuselah- The accepted vernacular for vampires

**For those not familiar with Inheritance terminology-**

Shade- An evil sorceror who has gained his powers by allowing one or more than one evil spirits to inhabit his body.

**-**

_**Well, I know that was strikingly similar to the original prologue but the rest of the story is gonna deviate. Reviewers welcome! **_

_**Cookie to the first person who guesses who the Methuselah boy and the blue-haired soldier actually were!**_

_**PLease R&R! **_

_**^_^**_

_**SayahYagashi**_


	3. Stoned & Stormed

**Stoned & Stormed**

The red-haired girl knelt on the ground, her fingers lightly skimming the tops of the grass blades.

The sky was dark, the sun winking out at whatever chance it got from behind the moisture laden clouds, creating broken rays of diffused light that traced the path of dust particles rising from the ground in frenzy as Esther climbed up the precarious path.

A strong sense of approaching storm invaded her senses and she momentarily paused, inhaling the blessed fragrance.

_Ah, the first rain of spring._

Smiling in spite of herself, she continued on her path, barely checking the signs, for she was sure of her way. Soon, she could separate the sound of falling water from the deep rumbling of pregnant clouds.

Reaching the bare edges of the cliff, she chanced a glance over its edge.

A huge waterfall, crashing down in the middle of a lake, surrounded by riot of flowers of singularly distinctive hues greeted her.

_Laura would surely be pleased._ She smiled again. _So pleased that maybe she'd forget._

Sheathing her hunting knife and grabbing a basket, Esther had crept out of the house six hours earlier, after completing her post-lunch chores, calling out to her mother that she'd be back after a walk as she needed to stretch her muscles. This was only part of the reason, the other being her desire to escape the torturous process of getting ready for her birthday celebrations, which were to take place that evening in the village and which, her mother had made quite clear, was one event where she would finally have to wear a dress, after years of boycotting all forms of female outfits.

_You can run, but you can't hide._ Her brother's sarcastic voice echoed in her head.

Well, at least not forever.

Esther lived with her mother, Laura Vitez and elder brother, Peter Blanchett by the edge of the great mountain ranges of _the_ _Spine_. Too close in fact, according to the people of Carvahall, the village nearest to their home. For all she remembered, it had always been the three of them, living together in their lonely old crumbling cottage, farming and selling the harvest in Carvahall. The arrangement suited them just fine, ensuring that Esther and Peter had to hike nearly ten miles over the lush green terrain, whenever they had some work in the village, which was almost too often, as they frequently complained to their mother who would smile and tell them it was good for their health. She preferred them going to the village rather than spending their time in the forest in the Spine anyway.

She wasn't the only one.

Strange tales of evil and sorcery were spun about the Spine and few dared to venture there, and even more so rarely after sundown. A cloud of misfortune and bad luck seemed to hang over it. According to legend, a dark angel lived in the shadows of the mountains, under the eaves of the forest, slaughtering all those who dared to disturb his lair. _An angel, thrown out from heavens for his terrible sins and his lust for power._

Fortunately, Esther had little faith in the matters of superstitions and it made had no difference to her hunting or trekking expeditions. She was the only lass brave enough to wander in the deep craggy recesses of the cursed mountains. Maybe her lack of fear was due to their living close to the Spine, for she rarely sensed the familiarity, she felt while roaming her childhood forests or hunting in the mountains, anywhere else.

Though the sun was bright and the trees tall and providing, few could stay in the Spine for long without suffering an accident. Esther was one of those few, not because of any special gift, but because of her persistent vigilance and sharp reflexes.

She had conquered her fear of the dark and the unknown a long time ago.

Eager to get her bountiful of flowers, she scurried down the hazardous trail towards the fall, tripping a little over the slippery wet pebbles and exposed roots, pushing aside guilty thoughts as she imagined her mother's expression.

Esther disliked –no, _detested _dressing like a girl or dolling up herself. She had rarely even worn a gown, in fact she hadn't even known she owned one, until her mother had opened an old chest of family heirlooms the day before and presented her with a ridiculous ancient costume that had supposedly been the height of fashion at her great-grandmother's time.

Hacking at an overhead branch, Esther wondered for the umpteenth time why couldn't she wear her normal leggings and tunic on her _own_ birthday, in her _own_ party–

And an explosion shattered the night.

Esther was thrown forward, scraping her knees as a fiery wind surged so close over her head that she felt its full impact. Drawing her dagger in one fluid motion, she sprung up, turning to face the danger, her weapon raised in front of her, parallel to the ground and her body, ignoring the throbbing pain in the back of her head as if it had been hit with a solid object.

In front of her, the trees swayed innocently, not a soul to be seen.

Turning around, she surveyed the clearing, her heart rate returning to normal. Behind her, where the fields of flowers had been swaying in the light breeze a moment ago smoldered a large circle. The grass outside the charring was flattened and a wisp of thick silver smoke curled up lazily in the sky, carrying a burnt smile. In the centre of the blast radius, lay a polished blue stone. Mist snaked across the scorched area and swirled insubstantial tendrils over the stone.

Esther watched for danger for a few seconds but the only thing that moved was the mist that was blown towards her by the wind. Cautiously she approached the stone, the dying sun casting brilliant long shadows, as she stopped before it.

Without releasing the tension, she nudged it with her foot and jumped back. Nothing happened so biting her lower lip; she warily picked it up.

Nature had never polished a stone so fine, or as smooth as this one. Its flawless surface was dark azure, except for thin veins that spider webbed across it.

It felt cool under her fingers, like hardened silk. Oval and about a foot long, it appeared lighter that it should have.

Unable to tear her eyes away from the stone, awed and frightened at the same time, Esther slipped back into the forest, realizing the glen was too exposed to be safe, absentmindedly rubbing her sore head.

Questions swirled through her mind, answers followed, each more unbelievable than the other.

_Magic._ She reasoned in the end, _yes, that was it. Magic._

Esther thought she knew all secrets of the forest, until now –with the stone's appearance, she had been proved wrong.

_Where had the stone come from? Who had sent it? What was its purpose?_

Still in partial shock, she trudged back home, aware that her mother might just go into one of her frantic fits and send Peter to look for her if she didn't hurry.

The sun had finally set, leaving the sky entirely dark and before she knew it, rain drops began to descend, first slowly, then with an ever increasing intensity that promised a long night of rain and thunder.

Staring down at the dirty conditions of her clothes and her bedraggled hair, Esther suppressed a sheepish smile.

Hurrying her pace, she scampered towards their small hut in the distance, boots leaving deep footprints in the earth that vanished as quickly as they had appeared, her eyes gazing unseeingly at the pin-point of twinkling light that was the oil lamp burning on the window-sill of their cottage welcoming the traveler back home, her thoughts still on the stone.

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'_What have you done to yourself!?'_

An angry tirade followed Esther the moment she walked into her house, and continued until she disappeared into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her, caring not for the mess she left in her wake because she had suddenly realized that she had forgotten to come up with an appropriate excuse for her lateness _and _she had forgotten all about the flowers.

Sighing, she flopped down on her chair, and held up the stone above her, examining it in the bright light of the lantern, knowing that the storm raging outside was nothing compared to the tempest going to be unleashed upon her.

_Exquisite,_ she thought vaguely as she dried the blue stone with a strip of cloth that she usually reserved for polishing her bow. Pulling her waist-length braided hair out of her tunic where she had stuffed it for convenience; Esther wrung the rainwater out of it, and spread it out around herself like a shroud, waiting patiently for her impending doom. _Any moment now…_

'_Esther! Open the door this very moment!'_

Yup, some things never disappointed her.

Stuffing the stone under her bed, the girl got up wearily and bracing herself, unbolted the door.

A tall stout, brown haired woman, stood in front of her, her tiredness doing nothing to diminish the anger in her eyes, one hand holding an out sized ladle while the other clutched at the door.

'Hello mother.' Esther tried faintly, fiddling nervously with her hair, as she tried not to look too worse off, wishing desperately that she could stop the water leaking out of her boots.

'_Why?_ Why did you do it Esther? _Do you have any inkling as to what time is it? How in the world are we supposed to reach Carvahall by the eighth hour? Do you know how worried I was when you weren't back home before dark? But I suppose you didn't have the time to _think _about such _trivial_ matters while you're out playing the truant, wasting away your time like a fool in that god-forsaken forest! And of course, the fact that your friends and family are coming together o celebrate _your_ birthday is hardly of any consequence when there are adventures to be had...or –or time to be wasted? Why bother coming home at all? It's not like it's _obligatory_ to be present at your own birthday party, is it? Why not clear off entirely and –'_

For the next fifteen minutes, Esther had to endure one of the worst telling off she'd had in about a long time and she'd had many. Finally Laura paused, chest heaving violently as she took deep breaths to calm herself unsuccessfully, glaring daggers at the red-head, who seem to have shrunk a little somehow.

Shuffling nervously from foot to foot, the sopping shape mumbled something inconclusive, avoiding all eye contact with the brown-haired lady.

'_Picking_ flowers? Picking_ flowers!?'_

'Y-es.'

Laura snorted.

'But you've got no flowers!'

'I-nearly-got-stoned-to-death-by-this-magical-rock-that-appeared-out-of-nowhere!' The girl muttered under her breath very fast.

'I'm not even asking what that means!'

Esther hung her head in a perfect act of obedience, and said in a small voice, 'I am sorry mother; I should have taken the time into consideration. If the rain hadn't delayed me, I swear I'd been home sooner. But I guess, that's no excuse, is it?'

Laura's eyes softened as she surveyed the damage to the gown, 'Well, I'll let you off this time, young lady, _but don't get ideas!_ If this was a façade to get out of wearing a dress –'

'Mother, you revolt me with the very idea!'

'–to the celebrations, then I'm delighted to tell you that you're still getting ready.'

'_What?_ But we've got no time and there's a storm raging outside–'

'No buts! I've had enough of your wild ways to last a lifetime! It's time you started behaving and looking your age. And I bet people won't mind if we got there a little late. Anyway, the rain is stopping, see for yourself. Now come here.'

And sure enough, as if the very gods of weather had been planning to make her look like a fool, the brutal wind blowing outside had dropped a few notches and the downpour was slowly turning to look more like a drizzle.

_To hell with the first rain of spring!_ Esther thought thoroughly pissed off. Deciding that offence was the best defense, now that her mother had calmed down, Esther crossed her arms and said in a hard voice, 'Mother, I am _not_ going to wear that prehistoric clown piece!'

'It's a marvelous dress –'

'It has puffed sleeves!'

'– your great-grandmother used to love it –'

'It's two hundred years out of its time!'

'– she would be _so _happy to see you wear her –'

'It –is –_pink!_ Esther said, as an involuntary shudder passed through her body.

'The point being?'

But before Esther could establish her views on the matter, the door swung open. A tall well-built boy with brown sun-bleached hair, walked into the room, grinning as he saw Esther's bedraggled state and propped himself on the edge of the bed, tousling her already untidy locks, saying, 'Hey, you back, midget?'

'Oh, hi, _Peetah._'

Esther said sarcastically, getting up to give him a punch, which he easily dodged and locked her in a headlock, shouting triumphantly, 'as I thought; as weak and puny as ever. Haven't grown as inch since last night. Bah! Happy _fifteenth.'_

'Yeah, well jerk, take tha–'

'Children! Children! Can we _please,_ try not to resort to violence for _one_ evening?' Laura asked resignedly, as the brother and sister engaged in a quick fist fight, which did not look like it would end soon.

Sighing, Laura Vitez left the room, closing the door behind her.

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_**Yikes! 2nd Chapter! **_

_**So anyways, for anyone who has not guessed...that is Laura Vitez the Bishop who was like-a-mother-to-Esther from the Star of Sorrow arc.**_

_**I'll try to get in another chapter before next week. **_

_**^_^**_

_**SayahYagashi**_


	4. The Party, the Priest and the Puppeteer

**The Party, the Priest and the Puppeteer**

In the end, a compromise was worked out.

Esther agreed to wear the dress but Laura had to concede to her demand of leaving her hair and face alone and letting her wear her boots.

'If only you'd allow me to–' Laura began.

'No mother.' Esther said firmly for the tenth time, stating in no clear terms that she would not allow anyone to paint her face or touch up her hair.

It had taken them nearly another hour to reach Carvahall, even by the wagon lent to them by the local trader, Merlock. Fortunately the rain had stopped for the night, though the clouds had not dispelled.

Pushing open the tavern door, thankful for the noise that greeted her because it meant that Laura would finally stop nagging her, Esther gave a relieved sigh.

'_Happy birthday!' _A chorus of voices rang out.

The single room tavern had been decorated specially for the occasion; festoons of colored paper were swathed over the wall and bells and other trinkets hung over the windows and the door, creating a racket whenever somebody knocked against them, which was quite often, seeing the empty caskets of beer that had been stashed under the bar counter.

Somebody had even tried to make a banner which said _Happy Birthday_ in beautiful large red letters, lost his nerve midway and left it at Happy Birt, the rest of the lettering done hastily by someone who apparently had never held a brush in their life.

'_Holy_…cow.' Peter whispered to Esther, a smile stretching across his face, 'who started the party?'

'Who bought the free booze, more like?' Esther answered, irritated. She had a very good idea who could have undertaken such a venture, and inwardly she swore to avenge herself on the man for trying to wreck her celebrations.

'_Who_ cares?' Peter said, his eyes twinkling, as he disappeared among a company of boys.

Morn, the owner of the tavern, who meanwhile, was draining his umpteenth pitcher, stumbled over to where they were standing, his face puffed up, and large blotches on his cheeks. Laura leaned back slightly and Esther unabashedly backed off; Morn's drinking habits were legendary in the village of Carvahall.

'Eh…Mish Vitez? You shee I de-co-rated the plashe.' The small man said good naturedly, swinging his hands about 'you shee, the bellsh, and the paper…and the bellsh?' He pointed out each of his worthy accomplishments a little confused, swaying on his feet.

'_Yes,_ Morn, and you have done a wonderful job, I must say.' Laura assured him, battling between her social courtesy and personal discomfort, 'Now don't you think you've had a_ little_ too much to drink?' With that she, whisked away the protesting bartender, no doubt looking for a steady place to settle him.

Suddenly finding herself alone, Esther looked around, puzzled at the open mouths she was eliciting.

'Dear lord, Esther, you look –um –marvelous!' Someone commented.

'I don't remember ever seeing you in a dress before.' Another one said. Esther gave a nervous laugh, clutching at the voluminous gown, even as she realized that the reason that most people hadn't even wished her yet was that they were too dumbstruck by her appearance.

_Think, Esther think! Speak up! Don't stand there looking like a fool!_

Panic rose up inside her as she recognized the potentially dangerous social situation, as her mother would call it, she was stuck in. The silence was deafening as people waited for her to reply.

Grabbing a tankard from one of his friends, Peter turned to the crowd, 'Sorry we were late. The girlcouldn't decide which dress made her look _talle_r.' He finished to a raucous burst of laughter.

Suddenly as if the spell was broken, everyone started talking at once. Mentally, she thanked Peter for helping her out of her predicament.

But of course, she couldn't let it go without some bashing.

Rolling her eyes, Esther shouted back at her brother, even as the others ushered her into the crowds of merrymaking and dancing, 'Well, we'd have been here _sooner_ if Peter didn't have to go halfway back because he forgot a certain something special he had been meaning to give to a certain special person. Why don't you tell us about that, _brother?'_

A loud roar of approval and hooting marked her words as several boys clapped her brother on the back approvingly even as groups of girls began giggling. Esther had a priceless moment of bliss when she saw Peter blushing furiously and half-heartily denying everything, before she was swept up into the fervor. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a copper haired girl, standing in a corner smile at her and she winked in return.

It was hard for her to avoid tripping, so Esther tried to escape from the floor as quickly as she could. But no sooner than she had moved a few feet in the direction of the wall, that she got pushed back into the centre, beguiled by requests to dance and join in the fun.

The birthday girl hesitated, she wasn't too much of a dancer, and her long hike in the forest and the journey to the village had tired her considerably, but then her mood got the better of her. Taking off her boots, she threw them aside and strutted onto the space cleared in the middle of the tavern, to a round of applause. Clasping hands with her neighbors, Esther allowed herself to be pulled into the hoedown, matching her steps with the tune, enjoying herself on the lilting merry melody.

'_Where is my favorite kid?'_

A deep voice boomed above the din, followed by more clapping and cheering as someone appeared at the doorway, swinging a breathtakingly beautiful woman on one hand and a huge bouquet of flower in the other.

'Oh, crap.'

Disentangling herself from the crowd and ducking at the announcement, Esther tried to make out before the man could reach her. The crowd seemed to part, as he swaggered to where the red-headed girl was unsuccessfully trying to look inconspicuous and stopped in his tracks, a look of amazement on his face.

'Good evening, Uncle Leon.' Esther said defeated, relinquishing her futile attempts to hide under a flight of stairs.

When the large, sun-tanned, dark-haired bear of a man continued to look comically shocked, Esther asked a little defensively, 'What?'

'You look like –_a girl_!'

Esther felt her face burn as people chuckled into their mead, trying not to look their way.

'Uh-well, that's because I _am _one, in case you've not noticed in our fifteen years of acquaintance, Uncle,' she said coolly, trying to maintain some dignity.

Grinning like a cat, the man lifted her up in a flash and nearly broke her ribs as he hugged her and handed her the flowers, his eyes twinkling, 'Well, well, how quickly the young grow, eh? Last time I saw, you were about this big,' Leon said, lowering his hand to knee level, which wasn't very low, considering his knees. Behind them, Esther thought she glimpsed Peter choking in contempt. Her brother didn't really think much about the blacksmith of Carvahall.

Esther let the strongest man in the entire valley, the scourge of al bandits and thieves, and also her uncle, set her down and muttered resignedly, an unwilling smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, 'We only met last afternoon Uncle.'

'Did we now?' The man actually managed to appear surprised; Esther had to give him that, 'It's really amazing how a person can grow overnight.'

Rolling her eyes in exasperation, she asked in a resigned voice, 'How many years more till I have to endure ludicrous and stupid jokes about my height?'

Picking a spot on his chin, Leon took his time before saying with a completely straight face, 'Really don't know Esther, ain't got enough fingers to count that m –'

'Stop teasing the girl, Leon, it's her _birthday._'

His wife, Noelle appeared his side, her long shiny hair swishing behind her in a most seductive manner, large ruby lips curled in a warm smile. Normally, in her plain garb, Noelle Bor looked extremely exotic, but tonight she appeared almost too sinful to be allowed near.

'Hello Aunty!' Esther stood on her tiptoes and gave a peck to Noelle on both her cheeks, inhaling the mysterious smell that drove boys and men crazy. After Leon's roughness, Noelle's charm brought some well deserved relief. Esther had always thought that the charismatic palmist beautifully complemented the brusque blacksmith.

'Happy birthday dear, you look _absolutely_ marvelous, simply _ravishing_ in that dress. I never knew your mother had such treasures, or I would have had your uncle steal it for me.' Noelle said her voice brimming with admiration and warmth, as she elegantly settled herself on the edge of a chair, looking not unlike a deity on her throne.

'You don't need some stupid old gown to look beautiful, aunty.' Esther mumbled enviously, eyeing her aunt's gorgeous figure, with its perfect curves and an attire that left little to the imagination. Behind them, Esther saw some boys ogling at the lady, while the men tried not to glance in their way to often.

She sighed, feeling like an awkward duck, next to goddess of beauty, the graceful swan.

Noelle didn't seem to have noticed anything as she waved her hand derisively, causing to drinks for them appear out of thin air and tittered, 'Rubbish! I am the mother of three sons. I am getting fat and ugly,' even as a boy stumbled in his path, as he was too busy gazing, with barely concealed awe at the raven-haired woman. 'And stop calling me Aunty, Esther. It makes me feel _old. _Just call me Noelle.' She added demurely, as Laura whisked past them, carrying a massive three-tier cake, which according to tradition shouldn't have been seen until brought out to be cut.

Rolling her eyes mentally, Esther said nonchalantly, hoping to catch Leon off guard, 'By the way uncle, did _you_ order all this mead? Morn forgot to mention who had all these caskets delivered early this evening.'

'_What?'_ the man stuttered as his wife raised a heavily penciled eyebrow contemptuously, a hand holding a glass posed in mid-air, 'No-no, why would I…I mean, not me! I didn't! I swear to God,_ I didn't–'_

The rest of his words were cut off as a crowd surged passed, separating them. Esther had a vague impression of Noelle's rising voice. She smiled inwardly.

She might enjoy the evening after a –

There was a resounding crash and Esther heard a girl gushing, _'He's here!'_ even as she was pushed unceremoniously out of the way. Catching her foot on the hem of her dress, the birthday girl toppled over. Swearing loudly, which went unheard due of all the commotion, Esther climbed back to her feet.

There were instant cries and squeals as the crowd parted, the men being pressed to the back by the swarms of excited girls.

Frowning, Esther tried to jostle her way past the ever increasing female horde to see what was going on, even as she caught snippets of a conversation amongst all the noise.

'_He's finally here! I never thought he'd come this far just for a simple party!'_

'_Oh look at him, mother! He's _so_ adorable.'_

'_I wish he lived in Carvahall.'_

'_Where do think he's staying the night?'_

Esther squeezed past the excited mother daughter duo towards an opening and finally found herself out of the oppressive multitude of curios onlookers.

Thanking the gods, she turned to look at what was causing all the uproar.

The crowds parted and she glimpsed a slender figure, pale as the moon, as delicate as the petals of the queen of the night, his locks of brown hair slightly flustered at all the attention he was getting.

Esther bit her lip, her eyebrows forming a perfect V as groups of girls flocked around the boy, eyes shining in adoration.

At the moment, as if noticing the only gaze directed at him that was not dripping in awe and blind worship, the angel faced boy glanced up.

Chocolate brown eyes met deep azure ones. The former gleamed in amusement.

Esther flushed suddenly, anxious to disappear into the crowd. A hand shot out and grabbed her.

'Ah finally!' Leon said, as he lazily draped himself over her, restricting any further movements from the girl, 'the amusement is here. You are from the neighboring village, right?'

The brown haired boy nodded, his eyes never leaving her face, 'Yes Sir, I am Dietrich Butler from Therinsford. I am here on the request of Miss Laura Vitez to per–'

'Oh, so you're with the great Puppet Master Butler, we've all heard so much about!' Leon said animated, oblivious to the young girl gagging under his weight. He continued to be ignorant to her futile attempts to disengage herself, 'trust Laura to bring in something good. So where is your dad, kid? I'm really looking forward to this!'

Dietrich blanched visibly before looking regretfully at him.

'_I_ am he.'

'Eh?' Leon was so surprised that he loosened his hold and Esther was able to break free from him. Breathing heavily, she mentally reminded herself never to come within a hundred feet of her uncle when he was in his party mood, or for that matter, _any_ mood.

'I am the _Puppeteer_.' The boy repeated languidly, his eyes boring into the older man's.

Apparently Leon didn't believe him, 'Really? So _you_ are the renowned master of the Puppets, whose talents are known throughout Alagaesia?'

'That's right.'

'The one who has performed in the Imperial Court and was recognized by the Lords themselves?'

'Y –es.' The boy answered, bored.

Unaware of all the harsh glares he was getting from the girls gathered there, Leon continued gravely, 'So you mean to say that _you_–' Esther thankfully elbowed him into silence before he'd could dig himself deeper in the eyes of the female population of Carvahall, muttering loudly 'Seriously old man, you are quite a prick when you're drunk.'

'I'm just saying he's _young_– _and I'm _not_ drunk and I'm _not_ old!'_

'Yeah, well, let's just start the show.' Esther murmured irritated as people gathered around. A waist-high miniature wooden stage, complete with curtains almost magically appeared at the boy's side and flashing a dashing smile in her direction he disappeared behind the boards.

The red-head wandered away aimlessly, towards the now-empty bar; and pulling a stool, settled down comfortably and ordered.

Behind her, the crowd gave a breathless gasp as the performance started.

A fawn haired boy, with a pale freckled face appeared behind the bar, a nervous smile appearing on his face.

'H-hello Es-esther,' he stammered, 'happy birth-birthday.' He finished breathless, shaking her hand as if it were made of glass.

'Oh hi, Alec!' Esther brightened up and got to give him a peck.

'Happy Birthday Esther.' He said again, fiddling with her order, the deep flush mercifully receding.

'Why thank you Alec, now let me relieve you.' Esther said delicately, taking her glass as the crowd continued to make a din, cheering and gasping at the right places.

'You look…different.' The boy mumbled under his breath, not looking at her as he polished glasses feverishly.

Raising her eyebrows at the statement, Esther asked conversationally, while resisting the urge to laugh, 'Really? How so?'

'Um…in a good way.' He spluttered hastily, his hands working faster than ever.

Sighing, Esther turned around, leaning back casually on the bar and said, 'Well, now that's a relief. I don't know what I would have done if you didn't like it, Alec. Probably, gone all the way back home and changed back to my dirty ol' garbs.'

Already regretting her words, she saw the bartender's face become crimson with embarrassment and she hastily said, 'And I appreciate the effort you put into making the happy birthday banner, Alec.'

Bad topic, she thought as the boy flinched horribly before stuttering out, 'I…I'm sorry I didn't finfish it properly! Morn _made_ me sweep the place twice this evening,_ and_ he promised me he'd take care of the poster if it mattered so much to me, but he totally ruined –'

'Hey! It's all right Alec. I actually liked it.' Esther assured him, looking unseeingly at the puppet show. Behind her, Alec stopped looking like he would like nothing better than to drop dead and gave a slow wobbly smile, refilling her glass after a thought.

Alec had been adopted out of the local orphanage by Morn and his wife Tara. Perhaps it was years of living in poverty and being bullied by older children, but Alec had gained a constantly scared look, one which did nothing to improve his tiny frame and his boyish voice.

Apparently Dietrich was turning out to be a success as usual, as the crowd split their sides at his jokes and distinctly, Esther heard Leon booming, 'Bravo!' between shameless whistles and clapping.

'So, Dietrich's here.' Alec said suddenly, his voice neutral, as he polished the counter. 'Why aren't you watching his performance?'

Esther stiffened and turned to look at her friend, frowning a little; it wasn't like him to show hostility towards anyone. But well, she reasoned rightly, then Dietrich wasn't just _anyone._

'Oh, if I've seen it once, I've seen it a thousand times.' She announced heartily, 'And, I'm frankly _not_ interested in his little routine.' She told him forcefully, and saw Alec let out a slow breath and unconsciously touch his head.

'How're your ears by the way?' Esther asked quickly, chiding herself for forgetting to do so earlier.

The fawn hair-colored boy quickly removed his hand and answered in an unconvincing voice, 'Maria said the tips might yet grow back some day.'

'Oh.'

The puppet show ended and as everyone turned their back their attention to their stomachs, remarking about the extraordinary show they had just witnessed, Esther saw the puppeteer slip out of the doorway of the tavern, unnoticed.

Her heart beat quickening; she hurried after him, thankful that Alec wouldn't miss her now that he had customers to attend to.

Finally in the open and empty street, the red-head let out her breath. Tilting her head back, she closed her eyes, taking in the pleasantly cool wind, allowing her mind to wander –

Someone grabbed her wrist and turned her around swiftly.

'_Hey_ –oh, it's you.' Her voice hardened, mock surprise turning to annoyance as she wrenched herself free rather pointedly and fixed the gorgeous looking boy with a steely eye.

'Yes, me.' He said softly, his voice mellowing down as he gazed at her, his brown eyes filled with so much affection, that Esther found herself melting. _God, they were going to be the death of her,_ she thought distractedly.

Shaking herself mentally, she continued to glare as if daring him to come any closer before explaining himself. Surprisingly, Dietrich stopped, his eyes widening as the corners of his mouth twitched in amusement.

'You're pouting.'

Mortified, Esther shoved him back roughly, and tried to look extremely mad.

'Definitely _not!'_

In response, Dietrich's face broke into one of his famous smiles, the one that made girls go weak at the knees. Unaffected, she tried to walk away, unsuccessfully, as he caught her around the waist and gently embraced her, making her breath stop.

'Oh, yes, you are.' He mumbled, pressing her back closer to him, his face buried in her hair.

'Hmm…maybe a little.' Esther tried to sound thoughtful.

'A lot.'

Esther rolled her eyes and they separated, her eyes twinkling, _did he really think it was going to be so easy?_

Brushing back his gorgeous locks, Dietrich grinned like a cat that has caught his prey and asked, 'Miss me?'

Raising a highly disdainful eyebrow, Esther smiled primly and said in a voice that promised a slow painful death, 'Not–in–a–million–years, Mr. Puppet Master.'

Ignoring his slightly confused, hurt look with quite an effort, Esther huffed passed him, her head held high in the air, jaw set determinedly.

'I don't see why you are so mad.' He said innocently as trailed her. 'I mean it's not like I did or said something wrong, did I?'

Esther halted and whirled around so suddenly that for a moment Dietrich tottered on his feet, and at the last moment steadied, lest he fall accidentally on the red head, an experience he judged wisely, would not be taken in a light vein at the moment.

'Well, I presumably should have informed you that I would be coming to Carvahall.' He said after a moment.

He looked at the red-head's feral expression and shrugged, clueless. '_Aaand_ I probably shouldn't have left last time without telling you?'

A crimson brow twitched and Dietrich shuffled backwards a little cautiously.

'And I am sorry for leaving you in the mess last time I was here.' He said slowly peering carefully at Esther to see if that was all and if she wouldn't explode.

It wasn't. And she did.

'_And I really regretted putting Alec into all that trouble and I'd apologize to him the next time I met him and pay for all his medical bills! And I would never ever try to undertake another such experiment and if I do, I'd surely inform you beforehand so that you can inform your dear childhood friends to stay away so that they may no get harmed.'_ She paused for breath, glaring daggers at him, not realizing that she sounded exactly like her mother.

'Yes, yes! Absolutely!' Dietrich declared. 'I am very sorry for – the incident and…and everything! _Forgive me!'_ Dietrich desperately waving about his hands, recognizing the no-win situation he was in.

A gust of wind blew leaves around them making the silence even louder and a cricket chirped somewhere. Dietrich tried not to sweat. None of his experience with the opposite gender had ever turned out t be like this.

'Is that all?' Esther whispered unexpectedly, her fists unclenching as a lock of wind-swept hair obscured her face.

The chocolate haired boy bit his lip, trying to remember which of his past offences he had forgotten to admit and atone for.

Suddenly it hit him. _Hard._

His face broke into a small apologetic smile and his eyes alighted and taking the girl's face between his hands he said softly, 'And…happy birthday, Esther.'

For the first time that evening, Esther gave a truly happy smile, tilting her face upwards slightly, in a clear indication of forgiveness.

Dietrich grinned.

Score.

Esther's eyes widened as Dietrich didn't let go, but instead drew her closer, lifting her face upwards as he leaned in on her, his eyes closing leisurely, as one hand snaked around her waist while the other buried itself in her hair, and above them the stars shone brighter and the wind stopped blowing as Esther let herself be pulled into the embrace, his lips a mere breath's away from hers –

'_Aiiiaaaa! Get out of the way!!'_

With the rudest of shocks, the couple disengaged from each other as a huge black shadow launched towards them out of nowhere. Immediately Dietrich pushed Esther roughly to one side but at the last moment the dark figure turned and crashed into her anyways, sending both of them hurling across the ground, before coming to rest at the foot of the marble fountain that stood in the entrance of the village courtyard, opposite the street.

'ESTHER!!' Yelled the chocolate eyed boy as he jumped after them.

'Dietrich!!' Screamed the blue-eyed girl as she suffocated under the weight of the man.

'Aiiaa…' Groaned the mass of black as he rubbed his backside.

Esther finally caught her breath and tilted her head to look at her assailant. She had a sudden impression of piercingly clear light blue eyes before Dietrich hauled the man from above her, his voice a dangerous growl, '_Get off her, you bastard!'_

Petrified the man leapt up straight, blabbering nonsense and then yelled in pain and fell down again as Dietrich caught him by his long ponytail and yanked back his head, whispering in his ear, 'You bastard…how dare you try to hurt her?'

Choking, the man spoke haltingly, 'Didn't – purpose – I – crows – attacked!'

'What?' Dietrich asked perplexed, as Esther scrambled to her feet, staring at the silver-haired man.

Clothed all in the somber black of a priest, the man still managed to look dastardly comical, what with all his theatrical whimpering and folding of hands pityingly before the fuming boy, not to mention a pair of thick round glass resting crookedly on his nose, whose function escaped her.

'Are you hurt?' Esther asked.

The man looked around at her voice, his eyes widening as he cried, 'Oh no! Oh no! My spectolums! My spectolums!' He wailed loudly, 'Where are my spectolums!?'

'Are you referring to that weird contraption…on your head?' Esther pointed out. A look of intense relief washed over his features as the black-robed man began cradling his precious spectolums before Dietrich jerked back his head, and hissing, 'Start talking.'

'I am very sorry!' The man began babbling again, after he had secured the glasses on his nose, 'I didn't mean to run into the little miss –' Dietrich snorted derisively, not loosening his hold on the man's ponytail, '– I swear I didn't do it on purpose! There was a flock of evil crows and I was just going about peacefully, thinking about the glory of God and they attacked me! Look, I am a man of God!' He said hopefully, brandishing a beautifully ornate bronze cross like a shield, clearly as a sign of his good intentions.

'Forget it Dietrich, let's go.' Esther said suddenly, resisting the urge to chortle, tugging at the puppeteer, who looked all for staying and beating the poor man to a pulp.

Frowning, Dietrich allowed himself to be pulled away by the red-head unwillingly, as the priest continued to bow and apologize anxiously, explaining his mistake.

'It's ok, mister. No harm done!' Esther said kindly to the frantic man, who stopped in mid-tirade to give a wobbly apologetic smile at her that transformed his entire face. For some reason, Esther found herself warming up inside as she returned the smile, feeling as if she had seen the man somewhere before.

_But where?_ She thought, not too worried, as they left the priest behind them, who shouting quite happily in a sing-song voice, 'I am really sorry once again! It was the crows, I swear! They tried to peck my eyes! Blame it on the little beasts! May God bless you all! And I'm really sorry for hurting your little sister, Mister –'

After that Esther knew a lost cause when she saw one. She didn't even try to stop Dietrich.

From beating the shit out of him.

* * *

**_Well, thats the 3rd chapter...hope you enjoyed reading. _**

**_A lot of new charcters in this one, _**

**_Leon, the blacksmith, as Horst. Noelle as his slutty...erm..sweet wife. (*ducks as Leon comes looking*)_**

**_Alec, as Morn's adopted kid. Poor Alec, I just couldn't give him a strong character._**

**_Dietrich, as a travelling puppeteer. But we all know ther's more to him than meets the eye. __**

**_Next chapter, egg breaks! Coming in shortly!_**

**_Thanks to DingDongBell and Anony-muss for reviweing. I don't mind anonymous reviwers but then I won't be able to reply people!_**

**_^_^_**

**_SayahYagashi_**


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